Your Body (FrUk Oneshot)
by Kung Fu Coffee
Summary: "I just wanna love your body" is exactly what France thinks about England. Just a romantic oneshot with a lot of making out. First hard core romance Rated T for kissing. SONGFIC


**The lyrics are off because I wrote this while listening to the song. SO sue me :P don't actually. First time writing hard-core romance! I don't own Hetalia or the song! Okay, I have to take off the lyrics, but please listen to the song on youtube. it's by Christina Augilera. The large gaps are where song lyrics go. To see the actual version, check my profile on Wattpad- the username is FleetingMoments17. I'll post it there too.  
**

France sighed, pushed the hair out of his eyes, and walked into the bar. He wanted to forget about England and his stupid, charming ways. Damn that Angleterre!

Blue eyes scanning the dance floor, he noticed Portugal dancing to the beat. Maybe he could use the man to take his mind off of the Brit.

France was always flirting with people. Always. But when he flirted with England it was different. He meant the sweet nothings that spilled from his lips.

Even as he made his way to Portugal, he still looked around for someone. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was looking for England. Who was conveniently sitting at the bar with a pint in front of him.

France didn't care where England had been the past two weeks. He just wanted the small man on his feet and dancing next to him, moving to the fast beat.

England looked up when he sensed someone behind him. France smiled down and took the pint out of England's hand, placing it on the bar. He'd have to make sure that England didn't drink from it later.

England looked up in astonishment at the man who he had assumed was his enemy, trying to ignore the butterflies and slight feeling of lust that was rising.

France grasped England's hand and pulled him off of the barstool. The two of them started to walk to the floor.

Silently, without words, the two began moving to the beat, England rather timidly. France shook his head, smiled and said something that England didn't catch over the loud bass. _Relax, ma Cherie _is what he said.

France's hands moved to England's hips, carefully moving them to the beat. England turned bright red, but let him. Soon the two were closer and France could smell the alcohol and cologne on England. France began drawing circles on England's covered hips. He could feel the other man's breath hitch slightly.

France wanted to go all the way with England, but even getting the stubborn man to dance was a milestone. Sex would probably have to wait.

He knew that England liked him. He'd known that since, well, a long time ago. France's memory isn't all that great. But he did remember that he wanted to completely ravish the other man.

England knew about his reputation, every fucking country knew that France had sex often. That meant that he was good at it. In France's opinion, having sex wasn't a bad thing—at all.

Making a split decision, France leaned down and pressed his lips to England's in what was supposed to be a chaste kiss. France's self-discipline wasn't that strong, and neither was England's. The smaller man reached up and tangled his hands in France's honey blonde hair. The kiss deepened and France lightly brushed his tongue against England's lips. That must have awakened the Angleterre, and he pulled away.

"You bastard, what the hell was that?"

"Why, you want to stop ma cherie?"

"Fuck no." Their lips connected again, and France wound his arms around England, squeezing his ass slightly. England gasped, and France slipped his tongue in, winking mischievously. England moaned.

"My place?" England asked breathily. France froze momentarily, grinned, and nodded. The two rushed outside to catch a cab.

As soon as England opened the door, the two were inside and kissing again, tongues fighting for dominance. France won, due to the fact that he had much more experience. Soon, he had England pinned up against the wall, England's legs wrapped around his waist.

France slipped his hands under England's polo, feeling the country's muscles. In one swift motion, he pulled the shirt off and momentarily pulled away, making England moan at both the loss of France's talented lips and the contact of his feverishly hot skin to the cool air of his flat.

Next, England began shakily undoing the buttons on France's button-down. France smiled at England's trembling fingers and quickly took over the work himself. As he bent down to put his shirt down, he got an idea, and leaned forward.

Using his tongue, he carefully began drawing patterns on Angleterre's muscular chest. The Englishman bit his lip to hold back even more moans, and France watched his pleasured face with a feeling of contentment.

"Bloody hell- oh god! FRANCE!"

"Bedroom," England managed to pant out between kisses and huge breaths. France nodded, lips working on one of England's nipples. The two began slowly moving towards England's tidy bedroom, stopping occasionally when they lost focus of what the main goal was.

As France threw England on the bed, he took in the delicious sight. England, on a bed, almost naked, boxers tented. panting France's name—his human name, none the less—and watching him through seductively lustful eyes. France wished that he could remember this forever.

France slid up over England so that he lightly covered the smaller man, their bulges barely touching, making England writhe. France grinned.

"Mon dieu, Arthur, so impatient." He chuckled, grasping England's wrists and pinning them above his head.

England looked up, eyes flashing slihglty. "Just get on with it, Francis, please!"

_Tonight you're looking right, I know you want it, oh-ooh-woah ooh oh woah_

"Please what?" Francis said in a low voice, sucking on Arthur's neck and leaving behind what would soon be a bruise. Arthur buried his head in the crook of Francis' neck, muffling his answer. He was bright red.

"Please—Francis! PLEASE JUST FUCK ME!" Arthur cried out.

"Not quite, my dear. Don't worry." Francis purred, sliding down and undoing the zipper on Arthur's pants with his teeth.

Soon, England's head was thrown back in ecstasy and France was the happiest man alive.

"**I love you, Francis."**

"**J'aime, Angleterre."**

**THE END! **

**Wow, longest oneshot and my first kissing and ect scene! PLEASE REVIEW, NO FLAMES! Don't roast a fellow FrUk fan! I didn't know how to write actual smut, so spare me :P. **

**Lots of love xx,**

**Kung Fu Coffee/Yani 3 3 3**


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